Duality
by Zvezda616
Summary: During the battle against Kaguya, Naruto realizes that things aren't really what they seem, and that maybe he isn't the hero people put him out to be, himself included. The catalist to it manifest as tears he would never forget, and the consequences for that change of heart are dire...or are they?


**So, before anything else I wanted to start this with an apology for my other fanfictions and to everyone who already know of me and my work. I've been absent the past months and I know it looks like I abandoned my works and you guys, too, but that is not the case. Let's say I got a quite...bad couple of months.**

**Everything is working for the best now, so no need to worry, okay? Sadly, though, I stood in that state for far too long to update you guys in anything. I did write the plans for what is going to happen next in Down With The Fallen and in my other fanfictions, too, so don't worry about that part. I just didn't had the heart to write anything down, really.**

**That changed now, though, so I guess you all can expect a new chapter soon.**

**About this fanfiction, though, it is a quite short one compared to my others. I have everything planned and the size of the chapters is considerably smaller than Down With The Fallen's, for example.**

**If you're wondering, this is going to be a romance between Naruto and Kaguya. I'm not sure if there will be any lemons, since I'm not good in writing them (lack of practice), but maybe?**

**The idea for this fanfiction came while reading another author's own fanfiction, and it might look similar to it in the first two chapters, but I guarantee that is all them both have alike (other than Naruto/Kaguya, of course *insert eye roll here*)**

**Oh, and if you decide to read this one, the only trigger warning you need to worry about is mentions of depression and insecurity. And please, forget everything in Boruto or after the 4th War. I mean, COME ON!**

**Now the formalities and the story. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter as much as I did enjoy writing it down!**

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**Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto nor do I make any sort of profit from this fanfiction. I don't own Boruto, too, but really, who wants to own that shit? Not that there will be anything related to it here, anyway. Sorry not sorry. It sucks in the bad way. Minus Orochimaru, who got a +8000 beauty upgrade.**

**Trigger Warnings: Depression, Insecurity and violence (duh, its Naruto).**

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**Arch I: Illusion  
****Chapter I: Zero Hour**

_**"The Worst Part Is Looking Back And Knowing That I Was Wrong"  
**__**~Three Days Grace - High Road**_

Rain poured off the clouds and hissed steam from rivers of lava that crippled the land. The ground shook with thunder sharper than the blades that clashed 'neath the storm-bringing skies.

All focus left his eyes as sharp rocks dug into his back. A thick fog overtook his mind and cold shivers crawled up his spine as he drowned on memories he knew he would never be able to forget.

They were memories of sadness, love, pain and hurt; of happy smiles, proud gestures and comforting grace. Memories of years passed and memories of breaths away. The knot that tied them all was the place in which they were stored - the place to which them all belonged. Not the depths of his mind, but the bottom of his heart.

His body trembled with a power not his own. It gnawed inside his head and roared at his ears with a hungry ferocity unmatched by the demon in his seal. But all he permitted himself to do was to seal his eyes from the falling tears.

T'was not a defeat neither was it a breaking of his resolve. He had not lost a battle and the war still raged deep inside his ears. No. It was but a lack of meaning and purpose - an utter loss of faith.

Water leaked from his lids. Whether from the crying clouds or from his crying soul, t'was impossible to say. Still, as they ripped off his face to the sound of the dancing electricity above, another powerful memory struck his core: the memory of the rarest set of eyes.

They were not a couple nor were they a pair. They were three and red as bleeding death, but also soft, caring and so alluringly beautiful he willed himself not to blink, 'lest he'd lose them forever more. They were, though, much like his soul, tarnished by the worst kind of tears one could ever shed: tears driven by the despair of a broken soul.

To have the answers for all his questions an inch from his fingertips only for them to burn to crisps before he could touch them was anything but fair. It stopped short of cruelty, bur only by the same cursed inches. Or maybe it didn't stop at all. It was hard to know when he was the one in the wrong.

A black silhouette smirked its smug malice from behind the goddess' frame. Another one of his memories; another one of his doubts. That vile creature, Black Zetsu, was but a disgusting monster in his mind, for what else would dare violate the purity of a broken heart? What else would taint the woman's tears with its lecherous embrace? What else would mock an opponent while its long-sought-after partner suffered before its eyes?

The biggest, vilest mockery, though, was designed by his own hands. It fed off his heart to set itself ablaze and to torch everything it touched. A twin to the demoniac chakra that swam through his veins. And just like said thing, it corroded him to the core with the sweet promise of hope.

"Hope". Ironic how that was what failed him the most at the time. If he had not hoped to achieve more than he knew how to, then maybe he wouldn't had caused all the suffering he did. If he had not hoped for an end, then maybe they wouldn't all be where they were - amidst a war. If he had not hoped for peace, then maybe they would have reached it already.

A lightning bolt struck the cliff-side and stole him from his thoughts. Warmth spread through his body as his wounds sealed themselves from harm. They hurt a lot worse after healed, yet never enough to compare to the pain he held inside: the pain in his chest.

He stood up with gritted teeth and a breathless cough. His legs shook and his knees threatened to bend, but he managed to triumph over his own limbs. It was a different war to keep his eyes opened amidst all the clashing elements, though.

A less proverbial clash echoed across the landscape. It raised dust off the ground and shivered his ears with caution and fear. It was a reminder of the battle he could not bring himself to fight anymore.

"Naruto!" It was Sasuke's voice. It was ragged, raspy and dirtied by dryness. "What the fuck are you doing!?" He blinked. So like Sasuke to curse aloud like that. "Are you trying to get us all killed!?"

'No' he wanted to say. 'I'm just trying to keep myself from being a monster, too!' But all he managed was to cough blood on his open palm and clutch tightly at his side. His granny would be really pissed at him later, that was fore sure.

He shook his head as his eyes took in the landscape. Craters, magma, fissures and shards of bones littered the whole place. Kakashi held Sakura up on the cliff-side. Sasuke had a hard time trading blows with Black Zetsu - when had he left the goddess' sleeves anyway? And the woman...she stared. She stared at his own stare.

It wasn't supposed to be like that. Her eyes should spin bloody murder and his world should be shattered forever more. She should hate him for what he was trying to do - for who he truly was on the inside. Yet there was nothing but pain, sadness, despair and regret. A perfect twin of what leaked inside his own mind.

What should he feel then, anyway? Bitterness? Compassion? Guilt? Rage? Comprehension? Fear? Glee? Nothing seemed to make sense anymore! Was that what Nagato had felt? Was that what he was trying to convey? That even when there was no hatred, there would still be no peace?

His eyes closed on a long blink. Wind and thunder rushed and screamed all around, drowning the shouts of his companions and the otherwise deafening battle cries. His thoughts were gone, too, if only for a second.

Air expanded his lungs a little more than it should as he forced in a deep breath. His body trembled and his mind raced from thought to thought as if to make up for the small blank. And his heart? It clenched aflame inside his chest.

Then a hand touched his chest. Its gentle push forced him backwards into an unknown abyss, and refused to let go. It was pure surprise that forced his eyes open and a gasp out of his mouth.

His last vision was filled by an albino sea that dance to the wind's private beat; a vision of pure white hair that caressed his neck. Was it irony that painted them as they were, or misinformation that arouse such a thought in the first place? Whatever answer held truth in its heart, he was bound to find soon.

Contrasting to his surprise, it was acceptance - of what he did not understood - that allowed them black sealed. Finally it was time for his world to shatter. And shatter it did.


End file.
